While we don’t (yet) have artificial intelligence that can match human intelligence, we seem to have enough difficulty interacting with the Narrow AI that exists now. Such technology is supposed to make our lives easier – and in some ways it does – but some of our distinctly human skills, such as critical thought, creativity, and discernment seem to be eroding as we rely more on AI.
As an avid science fiction fan, I have spent much of my life focusing on what is possible – good and bad. The potential negative outcomes of our technology are concerning if we let our achievements outpace any consideration of their implications. Man vs. machine narratives can serve as a popular cautionary tale in that vein, but are they simplifying the situation too much?
I only had one day to explore Oahu after my climate lab session, meaning I needed to make it count, but since one of my favorite TV shows, “Lost,” was filmed almost entirely on that island, the choice was pretty easy. I was thrilled to see familiar scenes at Kualoa Ranch, but I was surprised to learn more about what else goes on there: sustainable agriculture.
With one third of my year-long program completed, our cohort has been doing a lot of reflecting on what we’ve seen, learned, and applied. At the end of a week together in Hawai’i, we focused on some very real leadership challenges we’ve faced in a fragmented, polarized world, as well as how to encourage and empower others to keep moving forward toward a common goal.
The thing that started this whole road trip was my desire to see my first annular eclipse. Distinct from a total solar eclipse, this “ring of fire” is a strange sight to behold – and that’s coming from someone who travels to see total solar eclipses. Over the years I’ve learned some lessons about what to do (and not) in order to get a good view.
A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it line in a 1996 summer flick was my first introduction to the largest organism in the world: Pando. Since we were going to be in Utah for the October 2023 solar eclipse, I wanted to meet this 106-acre tree. Unfortunately, it almost didn’t happen because of some internet misinformation, but we got an amusing story out of our misadventure.
One of the two primary goals of our science road trip was to see the Trinity test site, where the first nuclear bomb was detonated. There’s no guarantee of getting in, which is why some enthusiastic travelers line up in their cars the night before. I believe this was the first occasion in my life that I waited in line overnight for anything.
Culture shapes us, and then we shape culture. The intervening time in between those things runs on the order of 30 years, which is often an explanation for reboots, revivals, and remakes of popular culture. The influence of the 1960s on the 1990s, and the 1990s on me was apparently very strong, which I realized this past fall when traveling in the Southwest.
We’ve made it through another Lent, and on this Easter morning, many are celebrating the end of a period of fasting. I am less celebratory as I consider how to move forward from a digital detox that I (surprisingly) loved. I undertook this project because I wanted to make a change, and I have some ideas on how to build a healthier relationship with the digital world.
Once we come to terms with the fact that we have a limited amount of time on this earth, the decisions we make become incredibly meaningful. I was likely an English major in a very close parallel universe, as the insights in this week’s digital detox update reference JRR Tolkien, Robert Frost, and others from my bookshelf to explore a seemingly simple directive: don’t click like.